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Gears of War:Va'asch and Torvaan's Story...
The following is the story of how Va'asch and Torvaan rose to where they are now. I have no idea how long I am going to make this, so keep that in mind. Torvaan will be introduced a little later, as Va'asch is indeed the eldest of the four. What ever I write here will likely be as new to me as it is to you. Enjoy. --Liberator MK II 12:28, 8 June 2009 (UTC) The Horde Needs You! The wide open expanse of water was almost perfectly still. It seemed the only breaks in the water were made by a Leviathan, coming up just a little higher in the water to hunt its prey. Though it was not interested in boats, at least not today, it settled simply for smaller fish. The black liquid looked eerie, like a distorted glass mirror, showing only broken reflections of what little light made it down here. Massive stalagmites reached up to the ceiling of the the colossal cavern, showing this places true age. The trip was silent. Even with 50 locust soldiers on board, all that was audible was the breathing, which incidentally, was quite shallow in most cases. Va'asch's was no exception. He had his head lent against his Hammerburst which he held in his hands. His eyes were closed, nearly in sleep, somewhere in between consciousness and a much needed slumber. All that broke his concentration was the occasional splash of water on the side of the boat. He opened his eyes to the sound of heavy thuds in near of him. Just in time too, as the Theron in command was not a forgiving one. He examined the gruesome warrior of death, clad in the crimson armoured coat that was trademark to all Therons, it did little to help his appearance. Underneath his ceremonial helmet showed a face covered in scars, and one eye missing, with so many scratch marks around it that it must indeed only be at most a few months old. A fearsome sight indeed. "Sir?" The Theron spun so around so quick that his steel plated boots made scratches on the boats floor. He looked along the ranks to find the one that had addressed him, to find one that looked very sure of himself, a grenadier with the biggest, sharpest, toothiest grin you will see in a long time. "What is it maggot?!" Their commander bellowed. This reduced even the sound of the soldiers collective breathing to nothing, and almost completely wiped whatever smugness the locust's face had. Va'asch simply waited for the gunshot with closed eyes. There was none. All he heard was a slight 'plunk' of the water and when he opened his eyes, the locust who was formerly sitting in that seat, was gone. He attempted to fall asleep again. There was a nudge in his side. He open his eyes immediately and straightened up. Expecting to see that Theron peering down at him in disgust. He wasn't there, and to Va'asch's relief, was at the front of the boat, conversing with the driver. There was a nudge in his side again. "Idiot it's me." He looked in the direction of the nudge. It was indeed his old friend Brork. "Did I give you a fright, little Va'asch?" He said in hushed tones, and then allowed himself a short chuckle. "No...of course not. I knew it was you." Va'asch replied defensively. This only furthered Brork's chuckling. Their commander heard the noise and his head turned, lightning fast. He didn't see the culprit, and returned to his conversation. Va'asch and Brork slouched again. "Anyway...I got a little extra Rockworm meat, ya want any?" Brork knew this was a rhetorical question. Va'asch eagerly took the tender meat which his friend had managed to smuggle aboard. This was a far sight better than any food they were given out here, on this extremely long boat trip. After finishing stuffing his face, Va'asch wiped his mouth and turned back to Brork. "That was great st-..." He stopped. Brork was staring at the floor of the boat. Almost longingly. "Is there something wrong?" Brork shook his head "Just remembering stuff" Va'asch knew what was wrong. "It's Torvaan isn't it?" Brork nodded, and glanced towards Va'asch "He wanted so bad to come with me...but..." He went back to silently looking at the bottom of the boat. Va'asch chose not to speak. Torvaan - Brork's little brother - was 2 years younger than Va'asch, and 4 years younger than his brother. He was intelligent but he was also a bit...clumsy was the only it could be put. His sibling did not want him facing the fires of war just yet. It was too early. If Brork had it his way he wouldn't fight at all! A mind like his was hard to come by in the Hollow, but then Locust are not usually very accepting of the unusually bright. He had no choice but to simply accept it. He, and his brother, were going to die. Soon after, their commanding officer addressed them. "Right." He started abruptly from the silence, "We are a about to arrive underneath the area known as-" He checked a map in his left hand, muttering to himself, "Formerly known as Vander Fields." He paused and pocketed the map. "You are not to be part of the garrison there, as such I have informed the troops there to drop your ugly hides if you loiter too long." He finished this sentence with a gnarly smile. "Your actual job is to patrol the surrounding 100km indefinitely." "Report back to the Vander's garrison if you find anything important. And if you don't come back..." He chuckled, but was still in control of himself, "They'll know anyway." He began to walk along the ranks of seats, examining each soldiers face. "You aren't being assigned to any particular squads so you get to choose who you die with." This earned a whispered remark from Brork. "Oh goodie..." "I'm glad you like it recruit!" He turned and looked at Brork, and the Theron allowed the remark. They neared the shore, which was littered with the rubbish of a Corpsers work. "Oh, and one last thing before you get off..." He did the most gruesome horrible look he could possibly muster. "Don't expect any replacements, your on your own." The Theron proceeded to the front of the ship, and kicked down the hatch at the front of the boat. "Now scarper before I change my mind!" A Little Down Time In Vanders Fields, the ground was wet still, so soon after the torrential rains of the winter. Now the weather was looking up a little it was almost pleasant. I use the word 'almost' because the green vineyards that covered your surroundings seemed almost too serene, too beautiful. But the fact that every once in a while you found a family of dead civilians, once pleading for the lives now rotting on their house's floor. This kinda tends to dampen the experience. At least, that was what Va'asch felt. It had been the third group they found. Him and Brork that is. Va'asch threw up as soon as he saw the corpses on the floor. Which had been soon after the smell hit him when he opened the door. The situation, even being as mentally scarring as this, was not the worst. The first group they came by was obliterated. He saw the car first. Which was originally a colour close to blue. The inside of the car was now completely red. Splattered was the first word that Va'asch could think of. Fighting against his disgust, he examined the wreckage. The car was pinned against a wall, which would have been the reason it went no further. The passenger side door was ripped off completely, and getting closer, he saw that also the seat was gone as well. He had no doubt this had been a Berserker's work. Then the mutilated driver's body pushed its way into his vision. The human's torso was completely crushed, though so was the roof, as the driver had been attempting to flee via the window on his side. It was apparent that he had failed. But lastly, and this was what got to him. The back of the car was completely folded in. He could not help but to examine why. He nearly dropped to his knees when he discovered why. It seems there had been a child in the back of the car. He guessed that the child's screaming had bothered the culprit Berserker, and the only way it saw fit to stop the piercing noise was to crush the child into a pancake. Apart from these soul crushing experiences, Va'asch's patrol went rather well. He trudged down the wet road, Hammerburst in hand, deep in conversation with Brork. "Nah man, I still think one of those tanks the humans have could steamroll a Brumak." "No way! They level a town every day. And you think they can't beat a little car?" Brork still argued the point. "Ok, ok. But it is still a 'little car' with a big-ass gun." Va'asch simply gave up. Brork always argues a point to the end. Even if it isn't his point. Or his argument for that matter. But that was the locust Va'asch knew. Strong headed to the end. There was a silent point in the conversation which they both used to check their weapons. Brork discovered that his Gnasher had been jammed, however, the weapon being as reliable as it was, a few quick smacks to the side of the gun solved the problem. A couple more heated conversations that pitted the powers of the Locust Horde against the might of C.O.G, and they both noticed it was indeed getting dark. "Better move fast Va'asch." Va'asch agreed, but then noted a distinct lack of places to stay. Brork scanned there surroundings. "Wait...ya think thats another wine-house?" Va'asch studied its outline as well. "Yeah..." Va'asch was unsure, "But I guess it's our only chance for a safe night." Brork shrugged, "Your right, let's get goin'" Brork and Va'asch jogged towards the house. They reached the verandah of the building. It was quite deserted. At least it looked that way. The building was completely intact however. "Better get in!" Va'asch ran to the door, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. "Not so fast, we treat each building as hostile, you know that." Va'asch rolled his eyes, "Fine. You first though, you got the shotty." Brork grinned, "Watch my back." Va'asch drew his weapon and nodded. "Go!" Brork rushed the door, and swiftly booted it open. He proceeded to check the room in front of him. "Clear." He relaxed a little, but didn't lower his guard. "I'll check the top floor." Va'asch didn't object, and Brork proceeded to check upper levels of the house. Va'asch anticipated a shot, but he didn't hear one. A few bumps but no bullets. Brork stomped down the stairs. "Guess what little Va'asch?" Va'asch was puzzled "Uhhh what man?" "Theres a basement back their, and since I checked top, it's your job." Va'asch cursed. Brork laughed hard. "Come on, it'll be fine." He threw him his Gnasher. Va'asch failed to catch the heavy weapon, and then had to pick up the gun and its spare shells. Brork knelt down to help him, and now quite seriously put a hand on his shoulder and comforted the youger soldier, "Don't worry, it'll be fine." Va'asch gripped the Gnasher hard, it being his only way to protect himself from the unknown dangers of the cellar. It turns out from the glints he noticed that it was packed with wine. Good stuff too. He went over to examine one rather dusty bottle. He could only read a little of the human language, but he managed most of the time. "Wow...thats old." He couldn't believe the age of the item he held in his hand. Something smashed behind him. Va'asch spun so fast that he had his weapon in hand and pointing it exactly at the sound before the bottle he was holding had even touched the ground. The smash echoed in the room, which turned to be larger than he thought, much larger. He moved towards what he heard, forcing his feet, one after the other. "Come on, come on, come on." Was all he could manage to say. His heavy breathing was replaced by another's breath. And then panting. And then like something was drinking, like a dog. He lowered his weapon as he saw it. He realized the only thing it could be. A wretch, which after a few seconds he remembered, was on his side. It looked up at him, it's large eyes reflecting light. It turned it's head in confusion and closed its mouth. It thought he was going to kill it. Va'asch placed the weapon on his back. It did a little growl, which sounded almost happy, and it resumed it's panting and plodded promptly out of the cellar. Va'asch exhaled greatly. He really needed some rest. Tough Times In the recent weeks the action in Vanders Fields had increased somewhat. Enough that it was no longer neccessary to have patrols, because it was crawling with either locust or C.O.G anyway so it was either impratical or pointless. This didn't mean that Va'asch or Brork were out of the job, if anything they had more to do. Word had been sent out that all operating locust were to report to the garrison, and be prepared for actual war. This worried Va'asch a little but he had gotten used to the carnage lately, but was as yet to be involved in blood-letting, first hand, and not just a few Stranded this time. He was far from being desensitized yet. Va'asch drummed his fingers on his gun. The tension was building on him. He was gunna have to fight. In actual combat. Every now and then he looked side to side nervously, as if he expected to see a Gear with a Lancer about to cut him in half. But all he saw was Brork with a reassuring nod in his direction, and it put him at ease, at least for a little. They weren't far from the Vander Fields garrison, he could see the smoke now. In the distance. They were burning the bodies, he could tell already by the smell. Burning flesh had quite an offensive odour. Perhaps they thought it might deter the human enemy? The chances were slim but that was the gruesome face of the Horde. They were the death of your friend. The enemy of peace and the foe of any order. That was just the way it was, and Va'asch felt they were nearly as much his enemy as the C.O.G. itself. They both trudged into the large base, through the gate and into the commotion that was the garrison. Soldiers dragged their dead to the steadily burning piles of frying flesh, the looks on their faces were solemn on most, regretting ever having being involved in this war, being next to their friend before their head exploded and for being the lone survivor while their squad was obliterated by mortars. This was what the sorrow in their faces said. The others, they simply looked stony. Uncaring. The weights on their shoulder may have been a rock for all they cared. They would kill the locust next to them for fun, even if they had been blood-brothers from the start. It was too late for these people, Va'asch almost felt sorry for them. He knew they were all controlled by the Queen. If only he knew how it was done. It seemed there was to be some form of assembly before they would be leaving. A few already stood in their disorderly ranks, as Locust have no true companys, or brigades or anything. Like the Theron had said, "You get to choose who you die with...". At any rate, this led to a disorginized gathering. Brork approached a Theron, who was here to keep order with such a large amount of rowdy soldiers in one spot, or for the protection of a supierior. Va'asch guessed the second. "Sir?" The Theron did a double take, and looked at him in disgust. "GET IN LINE!" He roared, Brork, not the slightest disheartened by this replied "Just wanted to know why we are lining up, ya know." Taken aback by this, the Theron growled, and then ordered again, "You'll find out soon enough, now GET IN LINE!" It was clear this was all he was going to get. Brork accepted this short answer, and returned to where Va'asch was standing rather apprehensively, it was quite clear some big was about to happen. Va'asch shrugged "Better get in line..." Brork looked around, and noticed a small clearing "Come on." He found it hard. All this walking. His damaged leg hadn't failed him just yet but it was giving him enough pain anyway. Thats what war is about, ongoing pain. He straightened his elaborate coat, the chrome studs clinking as it moved while the metal shoulder pads sat comfortably, worn in long ago. He had been fighting for years, and now, he had been reduced to a commander, a strategist...how had it happened...but that was fate, and he accepted it. It was time for the speech at any rate. He walked through an alclove onto the right side of the stage, and approached the microphone placed for him. The crowd roared. They knew who he was. The legendary Brumak pilot, Commander Serzen. Even Va'asch clapped. Brork whistled next to him, yelling something Va'asch couldn't quite hear but he knew be along the lines of "YOU BLOODY LEGEND!!!" The locust about to speak to them had destroyed thousands of lives and hundreds of families, of humans and of the Locust, in an unfortunate incursion of Lambent. Or that was what he was told anyway. "You are the new hopes of the Horde!" His voice boomed across the gathering of soldiers, all was silent now, the only exception being echoes. "Your might unbeatable, your strength unmatchable and your power unpreceded!" This stirred a cheer throughout the whole crowd, "Until now..." The cheering stopped. Instantly. "The humans are slaughtering us, 10 to 1. We are failing men." Many locust looked confused, others just listening as this was nothing new to them. "This news does not reach the Hollow...can you imagine what would happen? Our men would be disheatened...demoralized and useless." This was the effect he had on the crowd right now. "Not exactly the desired effect on MY soldiers, but the truth must be known." There was a pause as checked a few sheets of writing. "You march on the town of Treyarche today. You will have no support but the locust beside you. There will be no Brumak help, no reinforcements and no air support." "Recent attacks by Corpsers have failed. They are well equipped with their satelite weapons. Not the small ones either..." The general consensis among the crowd was disbelief...as far as most of them knew, a Corpser was invincible. "We send you in, because their own men would be endangered. We hope this will deter there usage of their weapons of mass destruction...but they have used them before, with no regard for their own kind." There was now an angry under-current of conversation in small parts of the audience. "You will move out in 2 hours." He went to leave and added, "May the Queens will be with you." Va'asch couldn't believe the bullshit they were just fed. Air Raid Va'asch apprehensively sat, on a rusty seat. In a row filled with similar rusty seats, and on each one sat another locust. Waiting to be called into duty again. The main force had already left for Treyarche, on a direct route to the front, at least, as direct as a Locust attack ever was anyway...You couldn't tunnel directly under their fortifications. Oh no, this would simply kill every soldier inside, as well as the Corpser digging the hole, the amount of concrete and rock falling would be tremendous. And the expansive nature of the many walls and bunkers, to get a decent amount of Emergence Holes dug, too many lives of soldiers, and of the living digging engines, would be risked. Even by Locust standards. Because of this, the main force had to take the Guns of Treyarche head on. Even with Va'asch being in this crappy situation that was his life. He still thanked whatever gods he had for not being in that particular force. Still...his job wasn't looking to much better. He hadn't been told his job yet. But he knew it involve the weird flying things...the ones with tentacles he saw in the Hollow every now and then. And they flew. Really high. Va'asch hated heights. Brork noticed Va'asch sitting so tensely, he guessed if the chair was moved from underneath him, he would stay in a sitting position. Their commanding officer, or at least the one in command of the operation, had left them to their own devices for about a half hour. He had instead taken to readying his own squadron of Reavers, of whom he was the leader. Brork walked over to Va'asch and waved his hand in front of his face, to check if his mind was even on the planets surface. It took a second, but his glazed eyes gradually noticed the movement, and Va'asch looked up at his old friend. "Your worried aren't you?" Va'asch contemplated a sarastic answer, but he could think of none. "Yeah...I guess..." Was his simple reply. Brork grimaced while he thought, no words of encouragement came to him. He looked at the nervous wreck in front of him. He would have to protect him...or no one would. The grizzled Reaver captain entered the mess hall, he had completed his preparations. "Come on maggots! We've got work to do!" Brork saluted with the rest of the group while he pulled Va'asch to his feet. "Lock and load man!" Taking his assault rifle from it's place next to his seat, he shook his head, psyching up, "I can do this!" and with that he took off to hangar, with Brork standing where he was with dumbfounded look, and promptly chased after his friend. The View From Up Here... There was still a lot of lush greenery on Sera, even after all the fighting that had ensued so far. The conflict hadn't reached this regions mountains and forests, the trees and earth still unscorched by war. There were no immulsion deposits here, so the C.O.G had no bases on the countryside below. Nor did Locust have any of their expansive tunnel systems deep underground in the mountain ranges, the hard rock underneath the mountains proving too hard or just too laborious to dig through. This probably said a great deal about why Va'asch was currently flying 6000 feet in the air on the side of a Reaver. He had only just now opened his eyes and gazed down at the ground below, even after running to the Reaver, the aerial weapon of choice of the Locust, he still freaked out as soon as they took off, much to the amusement of the others along for the ride. His hands and feet hurt from hanging onto the rungs on the side of the transport, of which there were four pairs of, which meant that there were three other panicked troops hanging from the Reaver. The pilot and the gunner were fortunately veteran crew members, and had seen more fights than most. Brork had been spending the trip talking to the pilot in particular, named Yarik. He told him of battles he had fought, tearing men apart with his beast mount, a ripping C.O.G helicopter pilots from their cockpits and of another favoured Locust air troop, the Hydra. He also mentioned a few of the details of the attack. Heavy anti-air fire. Flak left-right and centre. Attack helicopters. The works... Of course this didn't bother the pilot much... He was the best of the best. Still, it ended the conversation pretty quickly, the news filling Brork's normally stalwart heart with dread. The gunner stayed silent through-out the trip, analyzing data on a primitive radar screen, and receiving reports through the comms unit in his helmet. Radio chatter from the surrounding Reaver squadrons was fairly constant. Until one isolated cry for help alerted him... Turning to the pilot for a time, Yarik's face went from optimistic to grim. Nodding, he addressed his passengers. "Listen up grunts. Hold on tight. It's gunna be a rough ride..." He slid his goggles over his eyes, "... And that sounds like thats an understatement." Va'asch couldn't see what the fuss was about, he only saw fog ahead, and yet he still held his Hammerburst close against him. He still clung onto the rungs for dear life. Thick fog blocked his view as it hovered over a mountain ahead, the heavy blanket of grey restricting his vision of the possible danger to come. Some of the Reaver units ahead of his slipped into the cloud, advancing on orders. Soon the fog swallowed Va'asch and Brork too. The pilot peered hard through the mist, which proved quite useless. He still couldn't see through. Brork held his Gnasher with one hand, loading it carefully whilst looking straight forward in the same way as Yarik did, with a look of grim anticipation. The gunner abandoned his radar by now and took to the Troika machine gun in front of him. Looking left to right, Va'asch could no longer see any of the supporting squadrons, nothing at all further than four feet away from him was visible as a matter of fact. He remained calm, this was strange for him. He knew this war was changing him even now. He was hanging by a couple of handles thousands of feet above the air for crying out loud. But still he just peered out and kept his sensitive ears open. The eerie silence of apparent nothingness was getting to one of the other passengers, a young Drone who held on in front of Va'asch. His head darted from side to side, the height was affecting him now. To a normally grounded soldier, this sort of trip was somewhat taxing. Finally, he broke, "Where are you cowards! Show yourself human dogs! We come to your doorstep in hope of a decent fight, the least you could do is oblige us!" He panted after the outburst, listening close afterwards but hearing only the echoes from cliffs unseen. It almost seemed like the silence and grey impenetrable walls were still their only company until an answer came through the fog. A chaingun from nowhere opened fire, ripping the unfortunate Locust to shreds. The roar of the rotors followed shortly afterwards, as the spinning blades slashed through the slate coloured mist. Yarik banked the Reaver hard to the right, narrowly avoiding hitting the enemy aircraft. Va'asch fired after it, his bullets finding their mark before the helicopter disappeared again. He stared after it, the path of swirling fog still clearly visible. Suddenly, the glare became unbearable as they emerged finally from the low cloud. The Reaver begun to reduce it's altitude so as to be able to dodge flak and other dangerous projectiles already filling the air ahead of them, the batte was well under way, the ground below crawled with Locust troops as the Corpser diggers opened up emergence holes all over the green picturesque fields. A few besieged Centaur tanks fought off a Brumak, whilst a group of Gears were successfully suppressing part of the invasion force. It was time for Va'asch to do his part too. Yarik clapped his gunner on the shoulder and turned back to address the rest of the surviving passengers with a gleeful grin, "Welcome to Treyarche boys!" Category:Fanfiction